Welcome to Camp Kellerman's

Because France is a catholic country, we had the benefit of getting Easter Monday off--giving us lucky English assistants with Friday libre a four day weekend.

After much deliberating and scanning of weather.com, we finally decided to spend our Easter weekend in France's version of Florida---Tunis, Tunisia.

For those of you who don't have a keen sense of geography...myself included...Tunisia is a small country located on the African content between Algeria and Libya. Because of this location, our families weren't super excited about our tropical destination as we were. I believe the terms, "Oh perfect" and "idiot" were used in their descriptions as well as "kidnappings" and "terrorism". Of course, if you ask any French person what they think it's usually followed by this response, "Ohh la la, I luuve Tunis!" and a rather shocked look when you tell them you've never stepped foot near an African border.

I consulted trip planning gurus at expedia.com and found us a four star, all inclusive resort on a private beach. Sun, check. Food, check. Beach, check. Sounds perfect.

Should of known that Africa's version of four star was different than our American standards...explains the awesome price. We literally walked into a blast from the past and entered the world of the family style camping circa 1980's and participating was not considered optional.

After many Dirty Dancing quotes, we got a little annoyed of being lectured by the Animation staff for not participating in activities or not wanting to join in on conversations. I mean all we wanted to do was lay out by their overly colorful pool and tan our booties off; not be questioned to death about our origin and why we said we lived in France or lectured on our manners (good thing we said we were Canadian) for not saying good morning once or leaving their overly touchy, freaky cabaret right when it ended. (One of their skits was a rendition to "Grease Lightning" and we were the only ones who actually knew the lyrics, including the actors. Another was two men doing a skit where one was an instrument and the other was playing him and touching him in odd places.)

We came all the way to Africa to be the clique that everyone had at camp that thought they were too cool to join in on any of the fun. But we hadn't signed up for camp; we'd booked a sun filled, relaxing stay at a four star resort where our main objective was to find our lost tans. Interesting the difference between cultures and what is expected at a resort.

Besides being harassed by amp'd up Animation staff, we spent an afternoon in the main market where Lauren was felt up by some girl trying to find a money belt, and we bargained with the sale clerks for the best prices on local, touristy treasures. Another afternoon we spent horse back riding on the beach, and rode up to a traditional Tunisian hut where they made us bread and took pictures of us in native clothes...actually made us take pictures in customary wear. It was fun galloping along side the ocean and taking in the beautiful scenery, but I did rip my jeans on the saddle and nearly fell off when mid-gallop my stirrup broke.

We did manage to spend a good number of hours by the pool or on the beach soaking in the wonderful sunshine and getting some much needed R & R.

It was very eye opening to see such a vastly different culture from ours and even France's. The poverty level is very high there and a majority of the homes that would not be considered livable here. They had giant holes in the side of them, didn't have roughs and looked close to tumbling to the ground. It defiantly gave me a whole other level of gratitude for where I came from and where I live now. Another boost of American pride.